


Time's Distractions

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Series: Dark Drabbles [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Obsession, Teenage Dark Lord, Threats, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: Hermione has gone back in time to 1944 where she becomes something of an obsession for a teenage Dark Lord.





	Time's Distractions

**September 1944** :

This hair will be the death of her, she felt like screaming, ‘What do you want from me?’ at the frolicking follicles. She brushed aside her hair behind her ears as she tried to continue on with her homework. Professor Slughorn had given them a four-foot essay on the dangers of Love Potion.

“Hmm,” said a dark voice behind her shoulder as he leant down. “I doubt Slughorn will allow…”

“It’s _Professor_ Slughorn,” snapped Hermione.

The huff of irritation blew her hair back from its confines behind the ear. How could she have been so stupid to use the time-turner whilst sleeping in that thrice-dratted tent? Now she was having to finish her schooling with teenage Lord Voldemort, the good looks, charms and extreme helpfulness was odd enough to be around, but the fact that he wouldn’t leave her alone made her skin crawl. She had reduced the Dark Lord to being nothing more than a stalker, especially as it was he that had found her in dirty clothes, scars and scabs on her hands and knees. Holes in her jeans and twig-and-leaf infested hair. 

Dexterously he swung the chair around and sat with his front pressing against the back of the seat, his powerful thighs straddled either side of the chair: “Let me distract you,” he whispered in her ear, “as you have distracted me.”

For the hundredth time that day, Hermione dug her nails into the centre of her palms, so she was his distraction, was she?

“I would rather be distracted by a Hungarian Horntail.”

Then she felt his fingers brush through her hair, gooseflesh formed on her neck and arms at the gentle touch, “Believe me,” he purred, “you would probably be safer with a Horntail.”

With that, he got up, placed the chair neatly back into position and leaned down over her back so they could feel each other’s body heat. Sweeping her hair aside she shivered as his soft hands stroked down her neck, quickly she turned just as his lips were hovering over her cheeks.

“You’ve succeeded,” she whispered panting, her mouth dried up. “Now what?”

He cocked his head to one side and smirked at her, his dark eyes glinting somewhat a reddish glow, a touch she missed because her gaze was still on his perfectly formed lips.

“Oh, now!” he exclaimed as he pressed his lips on hers, “Now, my pet, we’re just getting started.”


End file.
